


The Paths of Desire

by Telesilla



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Asexual Character, Community: kink_bingo, M/M, Painplay, S&M, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-14
Updated: 2013-06-14
Packaged: 2017-12-14 23:13:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/842494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telesilla/pseuds/Telesilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As long as John's been on Atlantis, he's been making do--hurting himself because he can't find anyone he trusts to do it for him. When he learns that Rodney's a sadist, he thinks his problem can be solved by a little mutual gratification, but it's not that easy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Paths of Desire

**Author's Note:**

> Rodney uses a few negative words about both his sadism and his asexuality and I just want to make it clear that those are the words I think the character would use and not the words I would use. This is Rodney after all; his baggage comes with matching luggage.

"Just grab my wrists, okay?"

"I don't know," Rodney said, frowning. "I mean, they're pretty torn up."

John stared up at him. "Who the fuck cares about that? Pull me up so we can get out of here." The rope the Beril had used to tie his wrists had been coarse and rough and it had taken John about a half an hour to get free. So yeah, his wrists were raw and bloody and hurt a lot, but if Rodney didn't get him out of this ridiculous pit he'd been tossed into, he'd have more to worry about than his wrists.

"Right, right."

It hurt like fuck when Rodney first touched John's wrists and as he tightened his grip, it got worse. John grit his teeth, but his eyes watered and he couldn't help a sharp gasp when Rodney finally started pulling him up. Rodney's eyes went wide and he paused for just a moment, leaving John hanging there--all of his weight suspended by his wrists. Then Rodney shook his head a little and pulled John up and out of the pit.

They made their way around the town and met up with Ronon, Teyla and the Marines they'd called in from Atlantis. Rodney was silent through it all--even more silent than he usually was when missions went south and the guns were pulled out. He kept shooting John these odd little glances, but it was only when they reached the jumper that John realized Rodney wasn't looking at him. Or, to be more exact, Rodney was staring at John's wrists, his gaze narrow and focused.

In spite of himself, John caught his breath. Rodney's head jerked back and he looked away, his face going just a little pink, as if he'd been caught looking at John in the showers. Behind them, the rear hatch of the jumper closed and John blinked and turned his attention back to the controls. He'd worry about Rodney later.

Keller cleaned his wrists, smeared them with some kind of antiseptic goop and then wrapped them in gauze. "I'd offer you pain medication...." she began and then laughed when he shook his head. "My point exactly. But I am putting you on light duty and I'll want to see you tomorrow."

"Please tell me I can shower?"

"You can, but you'll need this." She handed him a roll of plastic wrap and a tube of the ointment she'd used. "If you do end up taking the bandages off, be generous with this stuff; it will minimize any scarring."

After the mercifully short post-mission briefing, John made his way to his quarters. Sitting on the foot of his bed, he unlocked the box he kept hidden in the back of his closet. All this time, he thought, staring almost angrily at the contents. He'd spent all this time spent making do, hurting himself as much he could manage on his own, and it turned out that his best friend was a sadist.

_Jesus, we could have been fucking this whole time._

It wasn't that simple, of course. But still, when John thought about way Rodney's gaze had been focused on John's wrists--John's bloody, torn up wrists--he shivered a little. He pressed on the gauze on his left wrist and remembered Rodney's grip on it, the way it had burned and hurt.

Okay, he thought. He could either try to get off like this--maybe grabbing one wrist while he jerked off--or he could go see if Rodney was interested in a little mutual gratification. Of course, that meant actually talking about things and John wasn't entirely sure he was up for that right now. Maybe....

His door chimed.

John shoved the box under his bed and went to the door. It was Rodney, of course.

"Hi, can I come in?"

"Sure."

"So," Rodney said, once the door slid closed behind him. "I...uh...this is weird. I shouldn't...."

"Is this about earlier?" John asked, a little surprised that he was the one managing to speak in complete sentences.

"Yeah, but it's not what you think." Even as he spoke, Rodney was shooting little glances at John's wrists.

"Oh?" John fidgeted with the edge of the gauze on his left wrist and Rodney's gaze snapped back up to John's face. "I think you like the idea of hurting me." Before Rodney could deny or bluster, John continued. "Thing is, you're not the only one. I kinda like the idea of you hurting me."

"Oh shit. This is going to be even more awkward that I thought." Rodney moved over to John's sofa and sat down. "I...I don't even know how to explain it."

"How about 'hey, John, it's great that you're into pain?'"

"I really do appreciate you telling me that," Rodney said. He was staring at the floor, his shoulders hunched, and he didn't look up when John sat down next to him.

This was not going the way John had expected. Not at all.

"I'm hearing a 'but,'" John began and then he sighed. "You don't do guys, do you?"

"It's not that...well, it is. Sort of. I mean, no, I'm not gay or bi."

John was surprised by the degree of disappointment he felt at hearing that. He drew breath to apologize, but Rodney shook his head.

"No. Let me...look this isn't something I've ever talked about with someone...with someone who mattered. So, just, bear with me, okay?"

"Okay," John said slowly.

"First of all," Rodney said after a long pause. "You know I love you, right?"

And no, John hadn't known that. Or maybe he had, because hearing it wasn't the shock it would have been if anyone other than Rodney had said it to him.

"I...um...but you're not gay," he said and wow, did he sound hurt or what?

"I'm not anything." Rodney took a deep breath. "Well, that's not actually true. Technically, I'm asexual, but it's a lot more complicated than that."

"You seem to like women."

"Define like." Rodney rubbed the back of his neck. "If you don't like women, or appear to like women, people think you're queer. And don't tell me there's nothing wrong with people thinking that, because you're not exactly Mr. Atlantis Pride yourself."

"That's Colonel Atlantis Pride to you."

Rodney's laugh sounded startled and he was smiling a little when he looked at John.

"Dork."

"So," John said, after a short moment. "You don't have sex?"

"I'm afraid not."

"But, how does this...I mean why'd you come by then?" John stared at him. "Because this is totally about today and you looking at my wrists like...."

"Like I liked the way you look bloody and hurting?"

"Yeah, that."

"Like I said, it's complicated. I'm a sadist."

"What?" John blinked as he tried to parse that. "I'm kinda confused here because I'm pretty sure you just told me you don't have sex."

"It's not sexual. At least hypothetically."

"Now you've really lost me."

"You're the only layperson I've ever tried to explain it to." Rodney shrugged. "It's not exactly something you tell people and even if it was, you'd be the last person I'd want to talk about it with."

"But if you're in love with me," John began and then realized he hadn't exactly reacted the way he should have. He never did but at least Rodney was used to John's difficulties with feelings.

"I guess I knew because it didn't surprise me. Not really." He took a deep breath. "And I...I mean, I obviously...um me too. But you'd guessed, right?"

"Wow, you're almost as bad at this as I am."

"Worse. At least you can say it out loud."

"I almost wish I hadn't. No no no...it's not...it's just that I don't know where we go from here."

And John, who'd learned that just saying the words didn't suddenly make everything work out, could only nod. "So, you do like hurting people? Because....well, would it offend you if I got off on it?"

"If it was that easy, I'd have already had a relationship or two." Rodney got up and started pacing. "I'm not the...I don't know, the stereotypical sadist? I don't want to slap you around or use a riding crop on your ass."

"I always want more than that. People think that a spanking and maybe a bite or two will work." John shrugged. "You've been hearing about my high pain threshold for years."

Rodney stared out the window. He was quiet for so long that John almost wondered if he'd heard what John had said. Or maybe he was rethinking the whole thing?

When Rodney finally spoke, his voice was low and weirdly gentle. He didn't turn around. "John? When I think about hurting you--and believe me, I have thought about it--I think about slicing you open just to watch you bleed. I think about the way a knife or a scalpel would look moving through your skin, past the muscle and all the way down to the bone. I think about beating you with a length of chain until you've got blood on top of welts on top of bruises. I think about you screaming, not for show, not because you're turned on, but because it hurts so much. " He turned and looked at John, a piercing, direct gaze that John couldn't have avoided even if he'd wanted to.

"The first time I talked to Kate about you was after that whole thing with Kolya and Todd. I was so fucking angry, John, and so fucking jealous. I didn't want you screaming like that for anyone but me. It was...I'd never felt like that about anyone I cared about and I didn't know what to do with it."

"What did she tell you?" John asked, even though he didn't really care all that much. Everything else Rodney had said was all but echoing in his ears.

_I think about you screaming...because it hurts so much._

"She was surprised it had taken that long." He shook his head a little. "I'm not, or so I've been told, a sociopath. It's not a Dexter thing; I know it's wrong. I keep it locked down pretty tight so it scared me when all of a sudden my fantasies were attached to a real person."

"I...fuck."

"Exactly."

"No, it just that I want to understand but I don't want to ask a bunch of stupid questions."

"I've been told on numerous occasions that there's no such thing as a stupid question." Rodney's voice was dry, but a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Normally I'd say that was bullshit, but in this case, ask away."

"If it's not about sex but you have fantasies about it...how does that work?"

"Chocolate's not about sex either," Rodney said, still smiling. "But I'm perfectly capable of imagining eating and enjoying a Snickers bar."

"But you said it was hypothetical. You've never...?"

"No. The only reason we're having this conversation is that I've had close to, what, six years now to get to know you? Anyway, you have no idea how many times I've rehearsed this in my head."

"What happens after?" When Rodney looked puzzled, John continued. "I mean in your head. After you tell me this. Do I always freak out and hate you?"

"Pretty much, yeah. You're being incredibly understanding here, even for someone who's already kinky."

Before John could talk himself out of it, he swallowed hard and then asked the next question--the important question. "How much is the bare minimum?"

"What?"

"If I asked you to hurt me. Would I be able to walk away from it? How much would it take to make you...um...like it?" He frowned. "Enjoy it? I'm sorry. I'm just used to...."

"It being mixed up with sex, right? You let someone hurt you, both of you get turned on by it, and then there's sex and orgasms all around."

"Yeah, that's usually how it goes. Well, on a good night." John reached back and rubbed his neck.

"When I...." Rodney paused, his brow furrowed. "Okay, for example, when I watch torture porn movies there are a couple of things going on in my head. There's an aesthetic appreciation and there's me thinking about doing that to someone and feeling...satisfied? Happy?" He bit his lip and turned to look out the window again.

"What?"

"Loved," Rodney said in a very small voice.

"That's why I asked how much you needed." After taking a deep breath, John got up and moved to stand behind Rodney. "Is it okay...can I touch you?"

"Of course you can. _I'm_ not the one with the 'Do Not Touch' sign tattooed on his forehead."

"Hey," John said, moving in close so he could slide his arms around Rodney's waist. "I let people touch me. You. Ronon. Teyla."

Rodney snorted a little, but he leaned back against John's chest. He was warm and solid and he felt like he belonged there in John's arms. "Rodney, I...." John huffed out an annoyed breath and tried again. "Look, I'm trying to say that I want to find out what works for both of us."

"Jeannie once told me that I'd never have a real relationship because they were built on compromise and, obviously, I'd never be able to do that."

"I like your sister, but sometimes she's full of shit."

John rested his chin on Rodney's shoulder, looking down at his hands. Slowly, keeping as close to Rodney as he could, he began to unwrap the gauze around his left wrist. The rope marks were still raw and red and the goop Keller had used made his skin shiny. "I wish you'd been the one to tie me up."

He could hear Rodney lick his lips. "Can I...?" Rodney asked as he wrapped his hand around John's arm just above the rope burns.

"That depends," John said, his eyes fixed on Rodney's fingers. "Is it okay if I get hard?"

"Um, I think so?" Rodney paused and then his hand moved down to rest against John's wrist.

His touch was even lighter than Keller's had been when she cleaned him up. John was just about to say something, when suddenly Rodney's fingers curled around his wrist and he squeezed _hard_. Even though he'd been expecting it, the sudden sharp pain made John's breath caught in his throat. Rodney gripped him even tighter. "Stupid ointment," Rodney muttered as he tried to twist his hand.

"Here," John said, already breathless. "Let me." He was about to dry his wrist with the bandage when Rodney took it out of his hand.

It took him less than a minute to dry the ointment off John's wrists and again, he was careful and gentle. Then, to John's surprise, he wrapped the gauze around John's wrists again, a little looser than Keller had.

Before John could ask, Rodney gripped his wrists and twisted again. This time, it didn't slip and the rough gauze of the bandaging made it hurt even more. "Fuck," John muttered in Rodney's ear. He pulled away a little, not wanting to distract Rodney by shoving his rapidly hardening dick against Rodney's ass. "More."

Rodney didn't give him more right away. Instead, he let go of John's wrists and turned around until they were facing each other. "I need to see," he said, and then, before John could say anything, he gripped both of John's wrists and twisted his hands around the bandages.

It wasn't like John didn't know that Rodney was strong. But now, as his wrists burned and then his elbows started to hurt because Rodney was cranking his arms around _hard_ , he saw that strength in a different light. "Oh yeah, that's ...wow." he said. "I wish...we can't do this until I scream."

"I know," Rodney said. He let up the twisting but his hands stayed tight around John's wrists for a moment. "Okay, wait." John could see him thinking it through and wow, that was almost as hot as the pain that pulsed in his wrists along with each heartbeat.

"Sit down. Right there on the floor. Actually, no, lie down." A little confused, John settled down on the floor. "Yeah, that's good. Now stay limp; don't move with me."

When Rodney tugged at his wrists, John got it. The memory of how much it had hurt earlier, when Rodney had dragged him out of the pit, was echoed by the way at least half his weight was being held up by his raw, rope burned wrists. Only now? Now, he could enjoy it.

"Ow...fuck!" he yelled as Rodney twisted his hands again. "Rodney...it hurts."

"I know," Rodney said and, like earlier, his voice was soft and gentle. "I know it does, John. It's okay. I know you can't scream for me this time. But," and he paused and twisted his hands hard enough that John had to blink.

"That," Rodney said. "More of that."

For a moment, John wasn't sure what he meant and then Rodney did it again, pulling John further off the floor. And yeah, John had a pretty high tolerance for pain, but the gauze felt like sandpaper on his raw wrists and Rodney was all but pulling his fucking arms out of their sockets and everything was still sore from earlier....

John managed to hold on for another moment or two, but then he gave in with a harsh croaking gasp and let the tears come.

"Oh," Rodney said, sounding almost surprised. "That's...yes, that's...just a little more, John. Can you take that?"

"Yeah," John choked out. He was a little surprised when Rodney paused and fussed with the bandages, but then it was skin against skin and even though the gauze was gone, it still burned like fuck. More tears ran down John's face and he was breathing in a hard raspy way that wasn't--quite--sobbing.

"Your wrists are bleeding again," Rodney said--a simple statement of fact. "Tell me how it feels."

"You're...you're hurting me," John managed to say. "It...oh fuck, it really fucking hurts, Rodney."

"Yeah I know it does," Rodney said. He went still and they stayed frozen like that--John on the floor crying and Rodney standing over him--for what felt like forever. John's vision was blurry, but still, he could see the expression on Rodney's face. He was looking at John the way he looked at Ancient tech--greedy and fascinated.

John's breath, already rough, caught in his throat. Rodney had never done this. What if he went to far, got so into it that he forgot how much he could damage John? Strangely enough, the fear just made it better for John. His cock throbbed in a weird echo of the throbbing in his wrists and he stared up at Rodney.

He wasn't sure what Rodney saw in his face, but Rodney's eyes went wide. Then, finally, Rodney eased him back down and let go of his wrists. Before John could even think about getting his shit together, Rodney maneuvered them both until John's head was resting on Rodney's thigh.

John's wrists still throbbed, but it was a dull, almost comfortable pain. Of course, now that he wasn't focusing on the intense pain and what it had done to Rodney, he was even more aware of what it had done to him. Rodney rested a hand on John's cheek and before John could stop himself, he turned and nuzzled at Rodney's hand--pressing open mouthed kisses against the skin of his palm.

"Oh," Rodney said, sounding much less sure of himself. "Do you want me to...." His voice trailed off as he reached down to rest his other hand on John's hip.

"Um, no I can," John said, feeling stupid as he pulled back. "Will it bug you? Should I do it in the bathroom?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Rodney said. "Of course you can. I mean, unless you want the privacy...?"

"You saw me cry." John thought about undoing his pants, but he was already really close and so he just pressed a hand against his fly. "You _made_ me cry," he said as he began to rub his dick through his BDUs. The friction of his shorts against sensitive skin reminded him of the harsher friction of Rodney's grip on his wrists.

"More?" he said, lifting his free hand up off the floor. "Just a little?"

"Wow, really?" Rodney murmured. Instead of closing his hand around John's wrist again, he just held John's hand.

John frowned, not sure he'd made himself clear, but then Rodney rubbed his thumb hard against the inside of John's wrist, right over the raw skin at his pulse point. The sudden jolt of pain was more than enough; John's hips bucked up and he pressed his hand down against his dick and came so hard he saw stars behind his closed eyes.

He lay like that for a long moment, not sure he wanted to open his eyes. This was already pretty complicated, but what if he'd done something Rodney didn't want to see? His wrists still throbbed and he was still a little shaky after the best orgasm he'd had in a long time, but still, this was weird and he wasn't sure he knew how to handle it now that his dick wasn't involved.

"Thank you," Rodney murmured and John felt his hand brush across John's forehead. "That was...it was good."

Blinking a little--his lashes were sticky with drying tears--John looked up at Rodney. "Yeah, for me too. If that wasn't obvious."

"I've never seen anyone have an orgasm. I mean, in person." Before John could say anything, Rodney's thumb rubbed his cheek, just below his eyes. "I know we need to talk more, but this can't be comfortable for you."

"I should probably wash up."

"Right." Rodney pulled back a little and then helped John to his feet.

John didn't bother with a shower and as he washed up quickly with a damp washcloth, he couldn't help remembering what Rodney had said. _It was good._ Not exactly a ringing endorsement, he thought as he pulled on a pair of clean boxers.

He felt stupid going back out in his shorts and uniform shirt, so the first thing he did was grab a t-shirt. Rodney had raided John's mini fridge and once John was comfortably dressed, he handed John a beer.

"Thanks." John sat down on the couch next to Rodney and spent a ridiculous amount of time opening his beer and taking that first drink.

"You look like you're facing a firing squad."

"Yeah, well." John shrugged. He glanced at Rodney and sighed. "Doesn't help that you're trotting out your best poker face."

"You've obviously never played poker with me." After a moment, Rodney took a long drink of his beer and cleared his throat. "So?"

"It wasn't enough," John said, surprised at how disappointed he sounded.

"I know and I'm sorry. I should have at least tried to jerk you off."

"What?" John blinked. "No! I still feel a little boneless; it was great. I meant not enough for you."

"Oh," Rodney said with a sigh. "It wasn't...I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"It's not like I've ever done this before." Rodney's shoulders were hunched over and he was staring down at his beer can.

"Shit," John muttered. "I'm sorry." He should have thought of that, should have realized that, for Rodney, this was the equivalent of first time sex. He thought about the awkwardness and confusion of his own first time and winced. Moving over on the couch until he was right up against Rodney, John leaned against him. Rodney leaned back and for a long moment they sat silently.

"I...you were scared there, at the end?" Rodney finally asked.

"A little. It's not like I couldn't have gotten away, but for a minute I wasn't sure you were going to stop."

"That was...you crying and looking scared was...well, it means a lot to me that you let me see that." He turned a little and slid an arm around John's waist. "It made me feel close to you, like you trust me."

"I do. I've let plenty of people hurt me for fun, but most of them never saw me cry." Rodney's arm tightened a little around John.

"The jealousy," he said quietly. "That's weird for me."

"I wish I could promise not to let anyone but you hurt me, but with my job? Not so much. I sure as hell won't let anyone else do it consensually." John said as he slumped a little until he could rest his head on Rodney's shoulder. He felt relaxed and unexpectedly affectionate. "I still want to know what I can do to make it better for you."

"Thing is," Rodney said after a moment. "I wasn't lying when I said it was good. It really was." He stared intently at the beer can in his hand.

"I just...I'm sorry it isn't more obvious. I mean, if I were normal, if I got hard and came...."

"Hey, no," John said, turning so he could look at Rodney. "You're talking to a guy who gets off on pain. That's not exactly _normal_ ," he added, making air quotes with one hand.

"At least you get off."

"Are we really going to argue about this?" John head-butted Rodney's shoulder.

"I just wish you had some way of gauging my reaction, that's all."

"You're the one who talks all the damn time," John said, nudging Rodney again. "How about you just tell me?"

"Okay," Rodney said, but then he was silent for a long time. 

"Okay," he said again. "It wasn't like I'd imagined it being but made me feel really good." He looked down at one of John's wrists. "It's weird. I feel totally relaxed right now."

John chuckled a little. "Yeah well, I'd have stayed on the floor a lot longer if I hadn't come in my pants." He paused and then added. "By the way, was that weird for you?"

"Not exactly. It was kind of cool, actually. I mean, in a 'wow, I did that to him' kind of way." Rodney paused and then sighed. "But you know how I offered to...help you? I'm not sure I could do that. I mean, it's...look, here's the thing. You're hardly the first person to tell me that I shouldn't use the word normal or make comparisons, but I do. So...."

When it became clear that Rodney wasn't going to finish, John tried to think it through. "Would it make you feel like you were missing something?"

"Not exactly. More like, 'he's normal and I'm not.'"

"Huh. Maybe I should take care of myself in the bathroom, then."

"No, you don't need to. Remember what I said about aesthetics? I liked seeing it; you looked good."

"Oh please. What was it Robin Williams said? Men look like Goofy when they come."

"Dork," Rodney said with a laugh. "Seriously though, as long as you don't mind me just watching while you take care of it yourself, I think I can handle it."

Instead of answering, John got up and went over to his bed. Leaning down, he felt around until he found his box of toys. "Here's the thing," he said, shoving it with his foot until it was on the ground in front of Rodney. "I'm used to using this stuff and taking care of myself, so having another person actually involved...well, it's something I haven't had since we were stuck on Earth after the Ancients came."

What he didn't say was that he'd all but flaunted it during his time at the SGC, half hoping someone would catch him having gay kinky sex and kick him out of the Air Force. He hadn't gone looking for it when the city had been on Earth; even in San Francisco with its numerous bars and clubs that promised anonymity, the chance that he'd get caught in the act was enough to keep him at home.

Rodney looked down at the box. "May I?"

Although he'd intended to let Rodney see, John hesitated, his face a little hot. His toys were just that...toys. "Sure," he said. "They're kind of...tame."

"Hmmmm," Rodney murmured as he reached into the box. "I don't usually look at...well stuff like this."

"Toys," John said echoing his earlier thought. "Like I said...."

As John spoke, Rodney'd been fooling around with a pair of nipple clamps. "Ow!" he said.

"You're not supposed to put them there." But even as he watched Rodney remove the clamp from the skin between his thumb and forefinger, John wondered how it felt. "You know what?"

"We're thinking the same thing," Rodney said with a little smile.

"Sort of." John shrugged. "Actually I was thinking that, as masochists go, I'm not very inventive."

Rodney glanced over, and yeah, John totally recognized that smug lopsided smile. "Why don't you leave that up to me?" Rodney said, his hand on John's wrist. Before John could answer, Rodney pressed a thumb against his pulse point again.

John felt an echo of the earlier pain and his shivered a little. "That...that works for me."

"This," he added, putting his hand over Rodney's. "All of it...you know, us...works for me."

"Yeah," Rodney said. "Me too."

_end_


End file.
